


Viva Las Birthday

by Bobblychicken



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobblychicken/pseuds/Bobblychicken
Summary: It's Ripslinger's special day, and Dusty and the rest of the crew all decide to go Las Vegas, Nevada to celebrate it. Takes place a couple years after If You Tame Me.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	Viva Las Birthday

On one special day, Ripslinger was awoken to the sound of really loud, really bad, singing. It was difficult to make out the voices of Ned, Zed, and Dusty as they mingled together, bellowing out an ear-wrenching rendition of “Happy Birthday”. Ned and Zed still seemed to be half asleep, not used to being up this early anymore than their leader, but they were still putting in a good effort at trying to be loudest ones in the room along with Dusty, who was over bouncing around in the doorway as he sang, wired from the instant he woke up as usual. A cake with lit candles was soon being shoved in the P-51's face as they continued to sing. It was a simple enough cake; double chocolate bedecked with sugar roses and Belgian chocolate seashells.

Ripslinger quickly blew out the candles, and not entirely to just make the singing stop, to the still sleepy, but still trying to be enthusiastic, cheers of his two Zivko cohorts and Dusty, who was offering Ripslinger the biggest of the sugar roses on the cake. Dusty staunchly encouraged total self indulgence on people’s birthdays, and yet here Ripslinger was, divvying up the rest of the flowers and seashells between the little group before they all settled in to what he liked to call a “whore’s breakfast”. The fact that, on this day of days, he truly didn’t have to share actually made him want to, and not a single morsel was saved, because Dusty had already let slip that the REAL birthday cake would be revealed with everyone present at wherever Ripslinger had decided he wanted his birthday dinner to be at, which annoyingly enough he had been dragging his tail in figuring out.

“Come on, Rip, the day is upon us now,” Dusty pressured, “We seriously have to _have to_ talk about where you want your birthday party at. Didn’t you say something about wanting to go to Vegas?”

“Yeah I think that would probably be the best thing,” Ripslinger finally decided. “I’m so used to them throwing these huge parties where I don’t even know half the people that are there; I think we should just go to Vegas, watch a few shows and what-not, and just have fun what'dya say?”

“Alright, Vegas it is. You know I’ve never even been to Vegas.”

“It’s real fun!” Zed said, “We try to go whenever the Red Bulldozer tours take us there, but we can never really enjoy ourselves because we’re too tired.”

“Yeah it’ll be nice to just go there on purpose for once,” Ned added before turning to look at Dusty. “I don’t know, though, Dusty might want to sit this one out.”

“Yeah!” Zed laughed as he joined in on the teasing. “It might be too hard on his little soul!”

“You shut up,” Ripslinger finally spoke up, sensing the rumblings of a fight approaching and taking Dusty under a wing, “We all gotta experience it sometime.”

Later, Dusty was going over the arrangements about where they were going to be staying and how they were going to travel with Skipper. It wasn’t all that hard to arrange something so big on such short notice when you had celebrity status on your side, which Dusty had no qualms about throwing around in order to make it work. Dusty had always worked hard to make every birthday that came along a good one. It was as though he had made some kind of covenant with himself to never let a birthday go bad.

“So how are we all getting there?” asked Skipper. “Not everybody has wings, you know.”

“I thought we would all just roll on down the highway. You know, see how the other half lives.”

Skipper could hear the seemingly innocent and yet worrying tone in Dusty’s voice that warned of impending shenanigans. He leveled his voice before asking again.

“Dusty, how are we getting there?”

“We’re taking a plane,” he answered, chuckling.

“Who is it that’s going to be flying?”

“… A plane with no landing gear.”

Skipper went stiff on his wheels before turning and giving Dusty a look.

“You’re going to get your aft beat by me this morning, Dusty. If you don't stop-,” Skipper warned, although his voice was still calm and if you listened hard enough you could hear just the barest traces of humor in it.

“Skipper, chill out,” Dusty laughed, easily amused by his own antics, “Rip’s been kind enough to have Kurtis come and fly all of us down. That way we can all get to Las Vegas together at the same time.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be the biggest disaster trip ever?”

“Oh, Skipper, don’t be so dramatic.”

XXxx

Kurtis Kyker got quite a few stares as he thundered down onto Propwash Junction’s runway. It wasn’t everyday that the residents got to see a Boeing 747 actually fly in and not just over, let alone one in full RPX livery. He really was a magnificent sight to behold, not that he needed anyone to tell him that; he had all the vanity and confidence of your typical jumbo jet, the perfect personality for a member of the team. He really wasn’t all that bad though. Not nearly as insufferable as Ripslinger could be.

“Hey Kurt!” Dusty chirped as he moved aboard. “Long time, no see!”

“Hey, Dusty. Hope you’ve prepared yourself, Vegas can really be something else,” Kurtis grinned. “Just pace yourself and you’ll do just fine.”

“Hah! Are you kidding?” Ripslinger contested. “He barely knows the meaning of the words.”

“I suppose not or else he never would have delt you that humiliating defeat, and in his first international rally, too,” teased the 747. “Happy birthday, Big Man.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ripslinger mumbled, rolling his eyes as his expression soured a bit.

It had to be said that the big lug could give as good as he got; another advantage for anyone who’s job it was to be in close contact with Ripslinger on a regular basis. Once all the luggage had been loaded and everyone had piled on and settled in, they heard Kurtis’ smooth, bass-ey voice over the intercom.

“Gentlemen, and woman,” he referred to Dottie, “this is your Captain speaking. Welcome to RPX Airlines; Flight One: To Vegas.”

XXxx

Dusty’s first impression of Nevada: Not all that impressed. There wasn’t a lot to see as they flew over. No water, no trees, no sign of life whatsoever. It was like flying over the moon, but soon they all felt Kurtis begin to descend and Dusty saw the strip come in to view. Tall, sparkling, elegant buildings jutting up out of the desert. Mandalay Bay, the Luxor Hotel, New York-New York with it’s roller coaster, and the MGM Grand Casino were all easily visible as they approached McCarran International.

“Holy moly…” Dusty breathed.

“Just wait til the sun goes down, then you’ll really be blown away,” Ripslinger commented.

“Where’s the Venetian?” asked Chug, referring to the hotel that they would be staying in.

“It’s way over there, almost on the other end of the strip,” answered Dusty as they landed.

By the time they’d all arrived at the Venetian after a quick tour of the strip, the air was fraught with excitement and Dusty and Chug in particular could barely contain themselves as they stared around in open-mouthed awe; wide-eyed as fledglings taking in the view on their first flight. It was as if they had gradually regressed back into little kids during the trip from the airport to the Venetian as they fought over who got to press the buttons on the elevator after they had checked in. When the doors opened out onto their floor Dusty and Chug, and even Ned and Zed, sprang out ahead of the rest of the group in pure exhilaration while the older members hung back, taking a more dignified stride as they took in the elegant décor and grandeur of the place.

“Kind of makes you wonder who’s birthday it actually is, huh?” Skipper remarked, eliciting a chuckle from Ripslinger as they all cast amused glances at the adrenalized group in front of them.

Once in their rooms, all penthouse suites split between two or three of them, they set about making home so that whenever the night ended all they needed to do was fall onto their sleeping mats and pass out. Seeing as how Dusty and Ned and Zed were already breaking into the mini bar, it was a good strategy.

Back down on the casino floor, the group began to fan out. Skipper and Sparky were already purposefully making their way over to the card tables for a few games of Texas Hold ‘em, while Ripslinger wasn’t far behind with the twins in tow for the Craps tables. Dusty, Chug, and Dottie moved among the multitude of bright, colorful, noisy slot machines, stopping at one or another that they thought looked interesting or just because the graphics were cool or funny.

“Gosh, slot machines have gotten so complicated,” Dusty was saying as he pressed the button on a neat, ocean-themed one. “I mean what happened to just matching up three things in a row? There’s like eight rows on this thing. I seriously have no idea what’s going on. Oh.” The machine suddenly lit up, becoming a cacaphony of noise as it started to blink frantically. “Oh, okay, I guess I won somehow. Fifty bucks. Neat.”

Dottie squinted at the nonsensical grouping of symbols on the screen that had a line drawn zig-zagging through them to indicate where things had lined up in Dusty’s favor.

“How did you even win? There’s no rhyme or reason,” Dottie continued as Dusty pressed the button again.

“Look at that; again. I did it again.”

“I feel like I’m taking crazy pills,” Chug commented as they all stared, metaphorically scratching their heads at a new set of randomly lined up symbols.

After money gained or lost, the group ventured outside the hotel to check out what else Sin City had to offer. Dottie had been nervously but curiously eyeing the Big Apple Coaster that was part of the New York-New York Hotel and Casino. Despite hating thrill rides, Dottie had promised herself that she’d try something wild and new on this trip and had been working herself up to going on it as soon as she spotted it when they had approached the airport.

“I’ll go on it with you, Dottie, if it’ll help you feel better,” Sparky offered.

“Yeah, come on, Dottie! You can do it!” Dusty cheered, giving her an encouraging bump with his nose.

“Are you sure, Sparky?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!”

“… Okay.”

The group made their way for the coaster, all cheering and trying to get Dottie psyched up, although she still felt like she was rolling at the head of a funeral procession. Dusty had already gone and snuck ahead to make sure the proper arrangements were made to where Dottie and Sparky would end up in the front car. Once they were both hooked in and waiting for the other riders, Dottie was already laughing deliriously as she usually did when she was terrified.

“Why do we have to be in the front one?!”

“Just relax,” said Sparky, almost zen-like, which only irked Dottie more.

“No, you stop that! I can’t-” another involuntary nervous laugh cut her off. “I’m terrified of heights, this is not funny!”

“Hey, you’re the one laughing.”

“I can’t help it! Oh god, no…”

The train started to move toward the tunnel to the outside of the building as the rest of the group did dramatic good-byes and laughed. Dottie’s laughter became more and more hysterical as they started ascending up the first drop, which unbeknownst to her only led into a bigger drop. Sparky had started to laugh a little along with her.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!”

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over before you know it,” Sparky assured, grinning.

“Says you-oh holy Chrysler!” she squealed as they went down the false drop and started up to the crest of the next hill. “Oh, that wasn’t so bad-”

A gasp had taken the next words out of her mouth as the coaster went plunging down the real drop. This led to a stream of thankfully unintelligible screaming, although if you listened hard enough you could just hear a “get me offa this thing!” as they went through a rather brutal dive loop. An engine-pounding 2 minutes later and they were back in the tunnel wiping their windshields and being let off to the cheering and praises of their friends.

“That’s it! I did it! Now I never have to ride one again!”

However, the worst wasn't over, as the next few minutes were spent with everyone busting up laughing at the pictures that were taken while they were on the ride.

XXxx

Later, as everyone regrouped in their hotel rooms, the energy levels among the younger members of the group hadn’t toned down in the least as they had started the general messing around that usually happened in the evenings when Dusty and Ned and Zed were together. There was a lot of rough-housing and spraying each other with champagne bottles while everyone else had gathered next door and were settled down practicing their card games until dinner. Once dinner was over, the real birthday cake was brought in, and Ripslinger’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, no fuckin’ way man…” he laughed in disbelief as he shook his front.

It was a blue and white three-tier cake with silver accents in fondant meant to make it look like stacked birthday presents, complete with chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of Tanqueray No. Ten sticking out of the side of it.

“Is that a _real_ bottle of Tanqueray?” Ripslinger asked.

“It’s for you, Rip! Happy birthday!” Dusty cheered.

“Oh my God, Dusty, I love you man!”

Once they’d polished off the cake, Ripslinger taking the piece with the bottle of gin in it, Dusty had announced that it was time to go and get drunk. He stopped at Skipper and Sparky’s room before heading out.

“Where ya headed?” Skipper asked.

“Oh, me and Ned and Zed and Ripslinger are going down to the LAVO Lounge for drinks.”

“Can I come?” Skipper dead-panned, but unfortunately for him the sarcasm went right over Dusty’s canopy as the little plane's eyes widened in shock.

“ _You_ wanna come?!” he breathed before his expression turned to excitement. “Come on, Skipper, come with us!”

“No, no,” Skipper tried to cover himself, “You don’t want an old timer like me going down with you younguns’.”

Dusty looked disappointed but then heard Ned and Zed gripe for him to hurry up.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye Skipper, bye Dottie, I love you!”

XXxx

The music in the club was blasting “Song for the Lonely” as they entered. It was dark, a little stuffy, and mad loud in there.

“Alright, no less than fourteen ladies at the table, please!” declared Ripslinger as they were led over to their section, although everyone’s fair share of rather lovey ladies did all ending up filing toward them once word spread through the club that a group of celebrities had made an appearance. 

Ripslinger took it all naturally and basked in all the attention while poor Dusty was left blushing madly more than a few times; never in his life had he met women that were so forward, even after he got famous. They were simply being swarmed by planes and even tight little sports cars alike. There must be something in the water in Las Vegas.

“Hi ladies… One at a time please,” Dusty smiled bashfully as he tried his best to emulate Ripslinger, failing somewhat.

“Ah, it’s good to be the king,” Ripslinger grinned smarmily as he winked at Dusty, a girl on one wing and two on the other.

All in all, they had stayed out drinking and dancing until nearly 3:00am. Impending hang-over aside, it was quite the ending to the absolute best birthday that Ripslinger had ever had.


End file.
